Carefully I lay me down,
in a world so hectic,
and yet it matters.
It matters we were all placed gently.
In a world so hectic.
Born to breathe,
an air of fresh chemicals,
in a world so hectic.
I can't say why,
since I'm no god,
but in this world it matters.
In this world so hectic,
it matters
that we have lips and eyes.
It matters
that there is little hair on our heads that give life to buggies if we don't keep it clean.
It matters
that we have money in our pockets,
and shoes on our feet.
It matters,
and that isn't always the softest inside.
There may be holes in those pockets;
holes in those shoes,
but it matters.
Those holes are representing something new.
Something fresh.
Something before and not so bad, because
before humans touched this world did earth seem so sad?
Was earth dripping color?
Were raindrops filled with gas?
What about those cans you see,
scattered in the bay?
Do you think the world would still be sad,
if all it went away?
Not to say, we are to blame.
In fact, that's not my point.
I'm saying we are carefully placed in this loving,
small,
and hopeful place,
yet this hectic,
crazy,
brain-numbing place,
so carefully,
we can't misplace that this
this matters,
in some kind of way.
It must matter we were placed
in the world, though we wrecked it.
It matters we were placed
in a world so hectic